


No Warning (you are my morning light)

by Adhallya, weskay



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Basketball, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/F, Fluff, I promise, a tinsy bit of angst, clarke is a major fan, lexa is a basketball player, nothing major
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-07-26 08:34:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7567381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adhallya/pseuds/Adhallya, https://archiveofourown.org/users/weskay/pseuds/weskay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basketball!au</p><p>Lexa is a basketball player who joins Clarke's home team and, like the soulmates^tm they are, end up sharing more than their love for the game.</p><p>aka</p><p>my first multi-chapter fic for the fandom</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a headcannon involving hockey but I have zero knowledge of that so it became basketball.  
> @procrastinating-porcupine helped create it, @westonkay helped shape it like the wonderful beta that she is
> 
> Hope you enjoy it

5 year-old Lexa standing in the backyard of her small house, looking at the large, orange ball in front of her. It’s bigger than her head and looks heavy. She eyes it, inquisitive, until her strange neighbor shows up at the wall that separates their houses.  
“Hey shorty. Can I get my ball back?” he asks with a playful look.  
5 year-old Lexa grabbing her first basketball and handing it over to her neighbor.

7 year-old Lexa going to her strange neighbor’s house after school to play with him.  
“You’re not so bad, shorty.” He would say every time she got a shot in.

10 year-old Lexa finally convincing her mother to let her join the local team.  
“Aren’t you a little short for this game, shorty?”

16 year-old Lexa becoming captain of her local team.  
“Good job, shorty. I taught you well.”

18 year-old Lexa getting a sports scholarship to college and leading her team to a championship.  
“Guess you’re not so short anymore, shorty.”

22 year-old Lexa signing her first professional contract.  
“Looks like I’m the short one now, shorty.”

24 year-old Lexa making a decision that would change her life.  
“I hope you find happiness, shorty. You deserve it.”

\--/--

5 year-old Clarke looking up at her dad as he kisses her mom before he puts on his team cap.  
“Soon, you’ll be joining me at a game, kiddo.” He says, kneeling in front of her.  
5 year-old Clarke looking forward to something in the future.

7 year-old Clarke putting on her first jersey, beaming even though it’s a little big for her. Turning around herself trying to read the name in the back.  
“You’ll grow into that, kiddo, don’t worry. Now, ready for your first game?”

10 year-old Clarke, sitting in the back of her father’s car, jersey on, team cap placed sideways on her little head, restless with excitement as they drive to her first away game. Their team is in the playoffs and it’s exciting.  
“I think we can go all the way to the finals, kiddo. This is going to be good.”

16 year-old Clarke, jumping up and down in the stands, her throat getting sore as she screams as hard as she can in pure joy. Her father holds her in a firm embrace as the two share that precious moment. Their team wins the championship for the third consecutive time and she couldn’t be prouder.  
“What did I tell you, kiddo? We did it again.”

18 year-old Clarke, placing her cap on top of a tombstone, tears streaming down her face.  
“He’ll always be in our hearts, Clarke.”

22 year-old Clarke, coming back home from college, going through the boxes her mother stored in the attic while she was away, finding her old jersey. The dark blue fading in the sleeve straps, the name “Griffin” now a shade of grey. She hasn’t been to a single game in years.  
“I doubt that still fits. Want me to throw it away?”

24 year-old Clarke watching the new arrival talk about how she believes the team can turn their luck around and return to those golden years. Green eyes shining, filling Clarke with a strange new feeling.  
“Do you think your father would approve? She looks a bit callow.”

\--/--

The interior of the bar is not as dark as it usually is after midnight. Clarke is glad for it because her soul is feeling dark as it is. She approaches the counter and is greeted by a grinning man with short, dark hair and dark brown eyes.

“Fancy seeing you here so early, Clarke,” he says, holding up a beer glass.

“I’m meeting my friend. She had a rough day at work,” she explains, nodding in acceptance.

“Cool. Let me know if you need anything,” he places the beer in front of her and winks, before going elsewhere.

“Thanks, Monty.”

Clarke started going to this bar after returning from college. She had no interest in going back to watch live basketball games but coming home and seeing her father’s memorabilia case had reawaken her passion for the game and she figured watching the matches in a sports bar was close enough. She even made a friend there.

\--/--

It was a particularly ruthless game and Clarke was a rather loud supporter. At a certain moment one of the opposing players tripped one of her girls and the referee chose to let it pass. Naturally Clarke threw some peanuts at the television, as if it would make any difference. After her peanuts hit the television and the bartender in the head, some more flew in the same direction but from a couple stools to her right.

“Referees like that is why I have trust issues. That asshole can’t see a foul to save his life.” The dark haired, brown skinned girl had said, a soft smile on her lips.

“He’s always doing this. I recognize his bald head anywhere. Used to see him at the games I saw with my dad.”

“So he has a thing against us?” the girl asked in a sulking tone.

“I think so. Once, I swear I saw a girl punch one of ours and he sent our girl to the bench because she wouldn’t stop bleeding. I wanted to go punch him.”

“I would have. Even if I couldn’t physically reach him fast enough,” she informed, shifting in her seat and showing Clarke her left leg brace.

“I’m Clarke.”

“Raven. Nice to meet a fellow Arker.”

“Born and raised here. Couldn’t support anyone else.”

“Same.”

Clarke grabbed her beer and peanuts and sat down in the stool right next to Raven, the game half forgotten.

“I don’t remember seeing you at school.”

“That’s because I didn’t go to school. I had an accident when I was little and I was home schooled. Then I went to a professional school to study mechanics.”

“I see.”

They talked for hours after that, only stopping to check the final score and ask for more beer. It became a weekly thing, them watching the games together and then it started happening every time of them needed to talk or just hang out.

This was one of those times. Raven texted her a sad emoji followed by a pint of beer emoji and Clarke grabbed her keys and took off to the bar.

\--/--

Raven walks in, limping slightly. She’s still in her work clothes, oil stained and dark colored. She sits next to Clarke and drops her head on the counter.

“That bad?” Clarke probes.

“Ugh,” the mechanic offers as an answer.

The bartender places a beer and some peanuts between them and leaves with a sad smile.

“Have a drink, you’ll feel better.”

“Man, I’ve been working on a car for almost a week and I can’t find what’s wrong with it. I’m so frustrated,” Raven goes straight to the point, bitterly.

“I’m sorry. Is there something I can do to help?”

“The owner is coming back tomorrow and wants the car ready. What if I can’t find the problem and the car explodes as he drives away?”

“Raven, I think that’s highly unlikely. Are you positive there is something wrong with the car?”

“Yes. It’s making a noise and doesn’t start properly,” she groans again and slams her head back against the counter.

“Then you’ll find it. Listen, is there something else bothering you?” Clarke asks, placing her hand softly on her shoulder and moving it back and forth, soothingly.

“Yes,” she pouts. “I think I need a new brace. Which I obviously can’t afford at this moment.”

“I knew it. I’ll talk to my mother and we’ll figure it out. Focus on the car, you got this.”

“Thanks, Clarke. I don’t know what I’d do without you. How will I ever repay you?”

“Obviously you will fix my car with extra care,” Clarke announces with a soft smile, using her hand to tap her on the shoulder, for emphasis.

Raven hugs her friend and then holds her beer towards Clarke, who clinks her own glass against it.

“To good friends,” Raven announces.

“To the best of friends.”

Clarke’s dark soul lightens a bit as her friend regains her usual sideways smile. If it depended on her Raven would never have to worry about anything. Alas, life is not that easy.

\--/--

The park on the outskirts of town is a peaceful and welcoming place. Hidden away from the rush of traffic, full of trees, fields of grass and lakes of clearwater and ducks; ponds with reeds and frogs; with swiveling paths, it’s a joggers paradise. A place where lovers meet on its many benches and families gather under mighty trees. Clarke would always go there with her parents during weekends to either just walk around or have picnics. Her father loved picnics and any occasion was perfect for one of those. There was a particular bench that Clarke absolutely loved. It had a perfect view of the basketball court and the football fields and watching children play made her happy.

Today Clarke is sitting on it, drawing pad on her lap and pencil ready to start sketching. She traces the trees around her until sudden movement in the court catches her attention. A tall girl and a young boy are passing a ball around and he’s laughing. There’s a shift in the air and Clarke sits upright watching the scene unfold. The girl shows him how to place his feet and jumps, throwing the ball effortlessly towards the hoop. Where Clarke is sitting she can’t really see the hoop but his reaction tells her the ball went in. The boy grabs the ball and gives it back and this time it’s almost as if time slows down as the girl jumps again and throws the ball. Clarke’s hand works on its own as she sketches the lean figure in front of her, stretching elegantly and releasing the ball into unseen territory. She can’t see her face properly but at this point there’s no need. There’s beauty in her movements and simple gestures, and Clarke is mesmerized. She’s so lost in the scenery that when her phone vibrates in her pants she almost jumps out of the bench and tosses her pad away.

It’s a text from Raven, a happy emoji and a car and wrench emojis. She wants Clarke to meet her at work. Part of her doesn’t want to go but it’s clear her friend has happy news and Clarke lives for happy news from Raven. So she gathers her things into her messenger bag and prepares to leave. At this point the boy is the one trying to get the ball in the hoop and she smiles as the girl claps at his every attempt, even the clearly unsuccessful ones. Then Clarke’s breath gets stuck in her throat as the girl looks in her direction and seems to acknowledge her presence. However she does nothing and resumes her teachings, Clarke releases her breathing and leaves. What the hell was that? She thinks, as she walks back to her car. Raven is going to have a field day with this.

\--/--

Clarke kinda hates Raven’s work place. It has a weird smell, it is way too dark for a place of business and she can never find her friend unless she screams her name into the void. This time she comes from an office, cleaning her hands with a dirty rag.

“Hey,” she’s smiling brightly.

“Start talking, Reyes,” Clarke says, traces of a smirk visible on her face.

“You were right. I was focusing on the wrong problem and I was completely missing what was in front of me. So I got my head in the game and I fixed the car.”

“That’s amazing, Raven. I knew you could do it.”

“Excuse you, that was never in question. It just took longer than it should have,” she states, faking outrage.

“Of course, my bad.”

“Anyway. The guy was so happy his precious car was fixed and running better than before, may I add, that he paid me in two different ways,” she announces, holding two fingers for emphasis.

“Oh no, Raven. You didn’t call me here to tell me you had sex with a client.”

“Jesus, Clarke. I would never do that. Unless the client is incredibly hot and is totally up for it. Which was not the case. He was like 12 and smelled like old newspapers.”

“So what was the second payment?”

She drops the rag on the table next to her and reaches into her back pocket. Clarke didn’t know what she was expecting but two small pieces of paper was not it.

“Two. Season. Passes. For the Arkers!”

It takes way too long for Clarke to process the information. Raven is beaming and Clarke thinks that if she could, she would totally be jumping up and down.

“Wait. Season passes? As in entry to all home games for the Arkers?”

Instead of answering Raven nods enthusiastically and it finally dawns on Clarke.

“No way!” she screams as she approaches her friend.

“Turns out he’s the CEO of one the companies that sponsor the team and he saw the poster I have on my office and then he made a phone call and later this dude came by and dropped the tickets off. I texted you like five seconds later. Dude was not out the door yet.”

“Holy shit. Are you sure they’re legit, though?”

“They have all the fancy tags and shit, so I guess. But we will totally find out this weekend, cause they are playing their first home game.”

“Oh man. We can’t get too excited about this, in case they turn out to be fake. I cannot tell you the amount of times I saw people barred at the door because of fake tickets.”

“You’re right. We’ll just go to the arena and see if it works. We’ll watch the game if it does and next time we go full on fan mode.”

“Agreed. I’m going to need a new jersey though, the one my dad gave me doesn’t fit me anymore.”

“Clarke, you should frame that jersey and put it next to his memorabilia case,” Raven suggests, getting serious for a moment.

“Yeah, you are right. It’s time to retire it. He would want me to have a more recent one.”

“Damn straight. Do you miss going to games?”

“A little,” Clarke’s face falls, conflicting emotions making her heart heavy.

“Listen, if you don’t think you are up for it, I can sell these, easy.”

“No. No. We are using them. I need to get over it, my dad would not like to see me pass this opportunity. Besides, I’m kinda curious about that new hire, what’s her name?” Clarke beams a little, choosing a good emotion and sticking to it.

“Woods. Lexa Woods.”

Clarke smiles and moves to hug her friend.

“Hey, do you think we can still throw peanuts at the referee?” she asks.

“I’m sure we can. They wouldn’t kick us out of the arena for that, would they?”

“Of course not. We’re good.”

“Let me just close it up and let’s grab a beer.”

“Sounds good to me.”

As Clarke watches her friend lock the remaining cars in the garage she thinks about the girl in the park. Will she see her again? Will she see her closer next time? Should she tell Raven about it? How badly will she tease her for it? Should she even be thinking about this? Since when was she so interested in some random girl? Was it just because she seemed to enjoy basketball like she did? Would it be all they talk about? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about it? Shaking her head before Raven joins her outside to close the garage door she focuses on something else. She’s going to get back inside an arena and watch her favorite team play her favorite sport. It’s all good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be updating this once a week, dates tbd
> 
> Hope you liked it.
> 
> I'm at krendallya-kom-saltkru on tumblr.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Raven go to a game and things happen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never related more to Clarke than on this chapter. She is me while watching a live game. Enjoy

 

The arena is not as crowded as Clarke remembers. She figures it’s because the team is going through a rough period and fans are not invested anymore. There’s a feeling of sadness that washes over her as they approach the entrance. Memories of a tiny Clarke holding tightly to her father’s hand flood her and she falters a bit. She’s not that girl anymore and too much time has passed. Can she go through with it? Raven notices her hesitation, smiles softly and grabs her friend’s hand.

“I bet he’s super happy you are doing this,” she assures her, just like Raven can.

“Don’t be a sap, Reyes. You don’t even believe that stuff,” she eyes her, wistful and proud, a smile tugging at her lips. 

Raven shrugs and smirks. With a soft squeeze she pulls her towards the entrance where a mean looking security guard is waiting. With an air of confidence that Raven Reyes is known for in any given situation she hands the tickets over. The security guard scans them and the gates open, allowing them to go through. He gives the tickets back and points towards the right side of the arena. Clarke smiles at him and the two girls walk over to the spot written on the tickets. She feels naked, being inside again and not wearing her jersey or a cap or even a scarf. When they reach the bleachers her heart almost bursts. The shinning soft orange court looks the same as always. The lights are less harsh now, replaced by LEDs, Raven explained the first time she noticed it on television. The scoreboard is ticking down to the start of the game and Clarke is now grinning. Oh, how she missed this.

A sharp dressed lady approaches them, all smiles and nice perfume.

“Welcome to Arkadia Arena. May I escort you to your seats?” she asks in the sweetest voice Clarke had ever heard.

“Why thank you,” Raven says, handing the tickets over to the eager to please lady.

She scans her eyes over them and gazes back at the girls. Clarke can tell she is also noticing Raven’s leg brace.

“These are for court side seats, but I can take you to the handicapped seats if you prefer.”

Raven gives her a flat smile and shakes her head.

“I appreciate the offer but there is no way in hell I’m not sitting my ass right next to the court. She can give me a piggy back ride up the stairs.”

Clarke stifles a laugh and the lady wonders for a second if she’s being serious.

“It’s fine. I can help her up the stairs.”

“Very well. Follow me, then,” the lady’s smile has faded a bit and Clarke swears her tone is a tad more aggressive than it should.

The only seats better than the ones they are at have to be inside the court, next to the coach, who will sit directly in front of them. Clarke is pretty sure she can get hit by the players’ sweat as they run past them. Beside her, Raven looks like a child at a toy store.

“These seats are so freaking good. Clarke, if we scream at the referee he’s going to hear it,” she says, wide eyed and with an enormous grin. 

“I know. We are so close,” Clarke wonders if her jaw is going to lock in a permanent grin.

“I’m loving this. My first time at an arena and we get these seats,” Raven’s eyes are wide and exploring.

“You must have impressed that CEO big time.”

“Well, obviously. I am amazing at my job, Griff.”

Before she can add anything to their conversation there’s a loud reaction from the public on the right side of the bleachers and the girls turn to see what’s causing it. Logically, it’s caused by the players coming into the court for the pre-game warm up.

The two teams come out at almost the same time but Clarke focuses on the ones with the light blue t-shirts and dark blue long shorts. She’s in awe of how amazing they all look. Young, strong and completely focused. There’s one in particular that captures her attention. She looks like the girl she saw on Tv not long ago, but there’s something different about her. Long dark brown hair, caught in a braided bun. Chiseled jaw set in absolute concentration. Strong arms and long fingers stretching her own shoulders. She looks around the arena and Clarke freezes when deep green eyes lock on hers. There’s a minor rise of her lip and a wink as she runs by, making her way towards the left side of the court to join her team mates. Clarke’s mouth opens slightly in disbelief. Raven notices.

“Hey, you ok there, C?” she asks, trying to see where her friend is looking at.

“Is that the new player?” her voice is barely there, her mouth feels so dry all of a sudden.

“Yeah, that’s Woods. What’s happening?”

“Nothing. I just wasn’t sure.”

Clarke can’t shake the feeling there’s something else. Raven eyes her for a while before turning back to the court where the girls are running back and forth on their side of the floor, doing a variety of exercises after every lap. Clarke can’t look away from Woods. It’s as if she has seen those moves before. Could she be...

“Hey, look, it’s Harper. She’s my client,” Raven’s voice snaps her out of her reverie.

“What? Who?”

“The blonde. She has an MG Cabrio from 1980 that was her dad’s and I love to tinker with it.”

Raven is holding on to the short wall that separates them from the court and hopping with one leg. Clarke grins at the sight. The girl, Harper, notices Raven and waves at her. Clarke feels her chest is about to burst with joy. If they win, what a wonderful first experience for her friend.

Clarke’s attention drifts back to Woods, who is now gathering the team in a circle and apparently talking to them. With the background music and people shouting to each other she can’t hear the pep-talk, but she imagines a commandeering voice declaring strong words of encouragement and positivity.

The next part of the warm up starts when a young boy brings over a trolley filled with balls. Right away all the girls run over to him and take a ball, ruffling his hair afterwards. He just smiles awkwardly and makes half attempts to avoid their hands.

Clarke finds herself drawn to Woods again. With the orange ball in her hands she looks taller and slimmer. She’s hitting the ball against the floor, between her legs and all around her. Then she is arranging a line behind her and they start running towards the hoop and throwing the ball with a jump. Clarke thinks time has slowed down every time it’s Woods’ turn to shoot. It still happens when they practice pass and 3-point shooting. Everything moves normally, except Lexa Woods. And it gets worse every time they accidentally lock eyes and she smirks at her.  Clarke feels very confused as to why it’s happening again. Is it a thing with girls and basketball now? Her previous thought comes back to nag at her brain.  Maybe it’s the girl from the park? It can’t be, why would a professional be playing at a park?  She shakes her head softly and turns to her friend briefly. Thankfully Raven is not paying attention to her.

A loud buzzer echoes through Clarke’s ears and she snaps out of her daze. The girls are retreating to the locker room and Lexa does what looks like a short wave at Clarke on her way out. She looks behind her, just to make sure she’s not doing it at someone else, and sure enough there’s a very good looking boy grinning to his friend, smacking each other’s arms in praise. Clarke sighs in relief. It wasn’t for her. Good, good.

She sits down and starts checking her social media. Next to her Raven is exchanging texts with a client. There’s some light cheering in the arena but Clarke is reading a post about a social event at her old college and ignores it.

“Hello, blue eyes.” An angelic voice penetrates her ears, breaking her concentration on her phone.

She looks up and meets two green orbs shining at her. She gulps.

“H-hi,” It feels like she takes forever to say anything and it comes out barely a whisper, that she’s not even sure the girl heard.

“Thank you for coming to the start of the season. Can I offer you a shirt?” Lexa says, a rehearsed narrative, obviously.

“Thank you,” Clarke manages to say without stuttering.  Why are you nervous, get a grip, Griffin.

The brunette hands her a rolled up baby blue shirt, similar to the one she is currently wearing. Right next to them, Harper is doing the same to Raven.

“Enjoy the game.”

“ Enjoy? I will need a little more than promises like that, won't I?” Clarke has regained her voice and adds in a smirk for good measure. What does this girl want?

There’s the smallest rise on the other girl’s lip and a glint in her eyes that catches Clarke a bit by surprise. Lexa doesn’t answer, choosing instead to back away from her and bow slightly. Clarke is pretty sure that was a  Challenge accepted move. She fails to notice that Lexa doesn’t give out any more t-shirts and that her teammates are simply throwing them to the crowd.

\--/--

 

The music comes to a stop as the arena announcer takes over.

“Welcome to Arkadia Arena, home of the Arkers and today is the start of the 2016/2017 season of the Women Basketball League,” The man’s deep voice echoes throughout the whole arena. Clarke is amazed that it sounds exactly like she remembers.

“Today’s game, the Arkers versus the Lions. Now let’s give a warm welcome to our ladies.”

Clarke and Raven start clapping and mildly cheering.

“Our starting five, with the number 3: Octavia Blake.”

A petite brunette with a round, young looking face runs to the center of the arena, holding her arm up, now wearing the baby blue jersey, with the dark blue lines and the black name and number written on the back.

“Next up. Number 5: Gina Martin.”

A slightly taller girl with brown hair, caught in a curly bun, joins Octavia, mimicking her gesture.

“Number 8: Zoe Monroe.”

Next a redhead with a smirk and shifty eyes joins the girls.

“Number 10: Lexa Woods.”

Clarke and Raven aren’t as cheerful as everyone else when Lexa approaches her teammates, but when she looks over at Clarke and gives her the tiniest of nods, she understands that the girl is going to work hard to impress her. The blonde smirks and Lexa takes a deep breath.

“And number 14: Harper McIntyre.”

The blonde girl Raven knows takes a quick run to the center and stands next to Lexa, all long legs and square shoulders.

The voiceover man presents the starting five from the other team and the girls sit down for the start of the game.

 

\--/--

 

The game is way better than expected. Lexa is a powerhouse, long jumps, fast stride, easy passes and smart moves. Octavia moves so fast, they lose track of her sometimes, one second she is under her own hoop and the next the ball is already finding Lexa or Harper on the opposite side. Gina seems to have an arm for 3-pointers and Monroe kicks ass at defense and Clarke thinks she broke some record with all her clean steals.

Raven knows Clarke is very vocal at games but now it’s actually a little worse. She gets up and slams her hands on the wall every time they fail what seems like an easy point. She curses when they shoot too close to the end of the 24 second countdown. She trash talks the referee and the people keeping score when they make a call against the Arkers. But on the other hand she cheers when the other team does a turnover. She claps when any of the girls score, though she thinks she gets a little louder when it’s Woods. She also turns to her every few moments, asking if she’s ok.

About 2 hours fly by and the score is 86-65. Raven stands up and claps with Clarke. The girls are thanking the fans in the middle of the court and Clarke’s chest is filled with a sense of pride. As she sees the people behind prepare to leave she wonders if there is some way to tell Lexa just how much she did enjoy the game.

“That was amazing, Griff. I thought watching on tv was great, but this is absolutely incredible.” Raven is still clapping as she talks.

“Yeah. They did a great job. Best game in years.”

“True.”

“Let’s bounce?”

As Clarke finishes her question Raven notices something peculiar. The girls are making their way over to the bleachers opposite from where they are, in a line, and seem to be calling the fans over to the wall.

“Hey, check that out,” Raven points.

The two friends watch with interest as the girls high five all the fans that approach the wall and soon a lot more people join them to try and understand what they are doing.

Clarke is strangely excited as the first girl, Gina, makes the turn and reaches their side. She and Raven reach forward in the wall and everything becomes clear.

“Thank you for your support,” she’s saying with a bright smile.

She finally reaches Raven and the mechanic is beaming when their hands touch.

“Great job.” She says before Gina high fives Clarke.

Suddenly Clarke starts freaking out. Lexa is the last one in line and has yet to make the turn. Her mind is racing to come up with a proper line in case she tries to say something about her “challenge”.

Octavia high fives her with a cute little smile and Clarke braces herself. Lexa is taking a selfie with a child and the good looking guy is now between them. She moves forward and high fives the guy and Clarke can tell he has a piece of paper in his hand that he leaves in her hand.

“Did you see that?” she whispers to Raven.

“Do you think it’s his number?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s weird.”

Lexa just keeps moving, ignoring the paper and the guy and stopping in front of Raven, grabbing her hand shortly instead of just slapping it.

“Thank you very much for your support today,” Clarke could listen to that voice all day.

“You are welcome. It was a great game.”

“We tried.”

With a grin and a twinkle in her eye, Lexa stops in front of Clarke and holds out her hand. She grabs on to it.

“So, blue eyes. Did you enjoy the game?” her voice actually becomes sweeter, something Clarke didn’t think was possible.

“As a matter of fact I did.”

“Good. My job here is done.”

“Win a few more games and I’ll agree.” Clarke challenges with a smirk.

“Very well. Will you be around to see those games?” there’s a slight shift in her tone but Clarke ignores it.

“I hope so.”

“I’ll see you around then.”

“See you around, green eyes,” Clarke tries out, just for kicks. 

Lexa bites down on her lower lip before leaving and it takes Clarke an extra two minutes to realize they had been holding hands during the whole exchange. It feels tingly and warm. Raven, however, did not miss it.

“What the hell was that?” she asks, limping her way up the stairs.

“What do you mean?” Clarke wonders, brows creased.

“I mean, if one was paying close attention, which I was, one could say she was flirting with you.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would she be flirting with me?” she narrows her eyes at her friend.

“Beats me. You ugly. And rude.” 

“True. See, you answered your own question.”

When they are almost at the top of the stairs, the welcome lady shows up out of nowhere and looks down at them.

“Were the seats to your liking?” she asks in that none too pleased tone.

“They were excellent, thank you for coming back to check,” Raven answers, in the most sarcastic tone Clarke has ever heard from her.

“Wonderful. Hope to see you next game.”

“If you are working that day, it will most certainly happen.”

With a curtsy and a wave the lady moves out of the way and the two girls leave the arena. Outside night has already fallen and they walk to Clarke’s car in silence.

“Hey, Clarke,” Raven says as they reach the vehicle.

“Yeah?”

“Did your father take you somewhere after the game?”

Clarke smiles at the memory. She nods at her friend and gets in the car.

“McDonald’s it is.”

Raven laughs as she pulls out of the parking space and drives away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and all the kind comments.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa have a surprise meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to thank my wonderful beta weskay, who is helping me make this fic the best it can be :)

Lexa is half convinced that when she leaves the shower the locker room is going to be empty. She’s tired, sweaty and something else she really needs to shake off. If only she would stop seeing blue every time she closes her eyes.

“Hey, Lexa, are you drowning in there?” she hears from the locker room.

It’s stupid to continue hoping the water will wash away the tingly feeling in her hand and body. There’s no point in becoming a raisin over something so trivial and she leaves the showers and gets dressed. The girls start leaving and she’s tying her sneakers when the last one waves her goodbye.

There are 15 congratulatory messages on her phone and there’s an ache in her heart. Her friends, whom she ran away from, are still following her career. She gives each one a thank you and wishes them good luck for their next game before leaving the arena. As expected her car is the last one in the parking lot and the guard has a friendly smile when she drives past him.

The apartment building where she lives is really old, with peeling paint and missing chunks of wall but it’s cozy. The neighbors she knows are friendly and respectable. Others could work a bit on their manners. One in particular is truly an absolute angel and is waiting for her at his doorway the moment she comes out of the old elevator.

“Finally, I’ve been waiting forever here. I think I may have aged a few years,” he says, arms crossed and a scowl for good measure. 

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting. The after game talk, the shower and the drive here slowed me down,” she deadpans.

He grins and shakes his head before giving her a fast hug.

“My mom let me watch the game. You were awesome, like I said you would be,” he tells her, proudly.

“I will always listen to your wise words, Aden. You make me a better player.”

“Cool,” he states as his chest puffs up.

“Hey, I got you something,” she announces before opening her sports bag and taking out a rolled up shirt.

“Wow, thanks Lexa,” he gasps and looks up at her with shiny eyes.

“No problem. We handed some of those out before the game but I kept one just for you,” she beams at him, ruffling his hair to lighten the mood.

“You’re the best. This is great, I love it.”

“Park tomorrow?” she asks while he studies the shirt.

“Yeah, my mom has a double shift.”

“Ok, I’ll pick you up at 3,” she goes to ruffle his hair again but he dodges it.

“Deal. Have a good night Lexa,” he says, waving and ducking inside his house.

“Good night, Aden.”

She gets in her small, one bedroom apartment and decides not to turn on the light. She’s so tired and tense, the darkness is welcoming. Her sports bag ends up on the floor by the kitchen floor and her body on the couch. She figures she can take a nap there and then later move to the bed. Her phone buzzes on the table and she sighs.

Coach Becca

There’s a reporter that wants to talk to you. Tuesday after practice. Thoughts?

Lexa considers not answering, at least not now. But she’s curious.

Lexa

Already? Isn’t it too soon?

Coach Becca

He’s been writing an article since you got here. Wants an interview to make it legit.

She groans, part exhaustion, part annoyance. Her eyes close as she ponders her options and once again there’s a vision of blue.  Get over it, Lexa she thinks angrily to herself,  stop thinking about that girl, you barely exchanged two words .  You don’t even know her name, idiot.

With that train of thought, Lexa ends up falling asleep on her couch, the message unanswered.

 

\--/--

 

Clarke really likes her job. Part art gallery co-curator, part resident artist she makes her own schedule, unless there’s an exhibit or an auction. As an excuse to create her art for an upcoming exhibit, Clarke tells her boss she’s going to the park. It is not a lie. Does she have an ulterior motive? Of course. Will she not use the time spent there drawing something? She most certainly will. It’s a win-win situation for everyone.

The light always seems to be perfect in the park. The greens of the tree tops are a special kind of color that she has a hard time recreating. That never stops her, though. It’s not quite there but, to her, the important part is the feeling it evokes. The small piece she’s painting is one part of a much larger project that will be unveiled at the exhibit in November. Clarke knows she has time but she also knows the weather is a temperamental fool that could ruin her plans quite easily.

Some abrupt movement and a loud laugh distracts her and she looks in the direction of the basketball court. She can’t be sure but it looks like the girl and young boy from the other day. Curiosity getting the best of her, Clarke starts gathering her things in her messenger bag and gets up to take a closer look. Her heart starts pounding as she strides towards the court. It doesn’t take her long to figure out what she’s seeing.

It all makes sense now. It should be obvious to anyone smart that a specific reaction is only triggered by a specific event. So, with that, the whole time-slowing-down-when-she-moved thing could only be attributed to one person. Standing in the park’s basketball court is none other than Lexa Woods. Clarke swallows a dry lump in her throat. Lexa looks amazing in dark grey sweat pants and a red tank top. She is smiling at the boy, and what a beautiful smile it is, as she hands him her ball.

“I may need to start you with some push-ups, buddy. Grow some muscle in those skinny arms,” she is telling him in that sweet voice of hers.

“I’m growing, Lexa. In a couple of years I’m going to tower over you.”

The sound that comes out of her mouth is glorious. The purest, most unbashful laugh Clarke has ever heard.

“Actually, I believe that,” she ends up saying after a few seconds of laughing.

When the boy throws the ball at the hoop Clarke steps over a fallen twig and the cracking noise catches Lexa’s attention. Her curious look quickly turns into one of recognition and a smile raises to her eyes as she starts walking towards Clarke, who in turn stops dead in her tracks and fills her chest with air.

“Blue eyes?”  

“Lexa Woods,” she declares, trying to present herself as confident and calm.

“Nice seeing you again,” her smile is now a cute grin.

“Don’t you play enough basketball as it is?” Clarke wonders, eyebrow raising with her lips.

“You can never play too much,” Lexa tilts her head to the side and Clarke’s chest feels like it’s going to burst.

Behind the basketball player there’s a soft ding, followed by another. The two women face the young boy and he looks up from his phone.

“Hello. It’s my mom,” he says, an answer to both of them.

“That’s Aden, he’s my neighbor,” Lexa introduces.

“Hi Aden.”

The boy waves at Clarke, his eyes locked on the phone, his right thumb quickly typing a message.

Lexa looks between the two and tilts her head to the other side, eyes trained on Clarke.

“That was a hint,” she whispers.

“Oh. Aden, I’m Clarke Griffin,” she waves back at him.

The player laughs again and Clarke grins. Aden, however, is waiting for a response on his phone. 

“Everything ok, buddy?” Lexa asks him.

Another ding and he straightens himself.

“My mom is getting off work. The person she was replacing showed up and her boss let her go. She’s picking me up,” he informs Lexa with a soft smile. 

“All right, I’ll take you to the parking lot,” Lexa tells him before turning to Clarke. “Will you wait for me, Clarke?” her voice is back to that soft tone she heard at the arena.

The artist shivers slightly at the way Lexa says her name but she doesn’t let that faze her. Her heart is beating faster than it should but she remains confident and calm.

“What’s my incentive?” she questions, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I’ll let you know when I get back.”

Clarke can only giggle as Lexa follows Aden out of the court. When they are out of sight she goes to the nearest tree and places her bag beside it. Lexa’s ball is nearby so she picks it up, goes back to the tree and sits down at its base. With a goofy smile, she resumes her painting and waits. At least, if Lexa doesn’t come back, she’s getting some work done. That thought saddens her a bit but she chooses not to dwell on that too much.

 

\--/--

 

Lexa has never been this anxious for Aden’s mother to pick him up. Most of the times she gets sad about it, seeing as she thoroughly enjoys his company, but this time she can’t get here fast enough.  Clarke  is waiting for her. At least she hopes she is.  Clarke, Clarke, Clarke . She’s pretty sure a name has never sounded this good in her head.

Aden’s mother stops her car right in front of them and Lexa waves back at her while he gets in. She can feel her heart start to beat faster with the prospect of spending time with  Clarke , to the point of considering running back to the court. She dismisses that because there’s no way she is going to get all sweaty before an actual conversation with the blonde.

Clarke is sitting down under a tree when she gets back, completely focused on a large pad resting on her legs, Lexa’s ball right beside her. She takes a few seconds to witness Clarke’s tongue poking out of her mouth and her nose scrunch adorably as her left hand works against the paper.  Clarke  is an artist, it seems.

“I’m back,” Lexa says quietly, still from afar, as to not scare and possibly ruin her work.

“That was fast.”

“Aden’s mother works nearby,” she informs, hands tucked into her pant pockets, trying to give the illusion of calmness.

Why am I nervous? I meet girls all the time. Why is this one different? Get a grip, Woods.

“So, have you thought about my incentive?” her question is not as innocent as it sounds.

“I’ll give you the possibility of winning a one-on-one against me.”

Clarke is watching her with curiosity. Her blue eyes scan her from top to bottom and Lexa has never felt so small.

“Accepted. But you won’t go easy on me.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

She waits while Clarke puts her things back into her messenger bag and then offers her hand to help her get up. It’s a simple act, hardly different than the one they shared the day before, but now that Lexa knows her name and sees that she seems genuinely interested in spending some time with her, her body’s reaction is altered. The warm and tingly feeling is replaced by a slightly intense electric shock that travels across her arm, straight into her heart and down into her stomach.

Wow there, take it down a notch,  she thinks. Obviously, she misses how Clarke looks like she got hit by something heavy and is struggling to breathe.

“So, are we playing street rules or regular rules?” Lexa asks in an attempt to lighten the suddenly tense mood.

“What’s the difference?” Clarke’s voice is strained but unwavering.

“Technically street rules means no rules. Just don’t gouge someone’s eye.”

“Sounds good to me.”

There’s now a glint of mischief in Clarke’s eyes and Lexa smirks. When the blonde picks the ball from its place on the floor she’s also smirking.

 

\--/--

 

Clarke is fully committed to impress Lexa. She has no idea why but she knows she has to. It’s of the utmost importance that she ends this game in Lexa’s good graces. So she starts warming up in a similar fashion as she saw her do the previous day. 

Lexa just stares in amusement as she stretches her arms and back, jumps up and down with zero sense of purpose or just bounces the ball in front of her. 

“So, ready to lose to an amateur?” she teases.

“Show me how it’s done, Clarke.”

The way she says her name makes her bite her lower lip but she shakes it off.  Focus, Griffin.

“How far are we taking this?” 

“First to 12 wins. Outside shoots are 3-pointers,” Lexa determines, matter-of-factly.

Clarke can see the shift in her demeanor. She’s focused now and she can’t help but smile at her. She can clearly tell Lexa is a natural athlete, the way she positions herself and the passion that is now vibrant in her deep, breathtaking, forest-green eyes.

“You are going down, Woods.”

“Please don’t throw me to the ground, I do this for a living and this is cement,” Lexa says seriously, straightening her back.

“Really, Lexa?” Clarke questions, shaking her head. Never in a million years would Clarke imagine herself having this kind of playful talk with someone she just met. Thankfully, Lexa makes it so easy. 

The player grins and repositions herself, licking her lips in the process. It’s enticing but that is not the worst part. The thing that makes Clarke question her resolve, her whole life even, is the way Lexa locks her incredible green eyes on hers, like she’s trying to read her very soul. 

“Let’s go, Clarke.”

I’ll go when you stop saying my name like that.

 

\--/--

 

The game ends up involving a lot more touching than perhaps necessary, or even considered legal in normal circumstances. Clarke tries, she tries very hard, but sadly Lexa is indeed a professional. A cheating, very strong and fast professional. Every time Clarke tried to make a move towards the hoop Lexa hugged her and made her drop the ball. After letting her go facing the opposite direction of the ball, she would seize it and throw an outside shot, reaching the 12 points fairly easily. 

“I’m going to report you to whatever high authority rules over basketball,” Clarke whines after Lexa hits her fourth three-pointer.

“You agreed to street rules, Clarke,” Lexa defends, an air of cockiness and self-awareness about her.

“I was unaware those allowed for you to grab me like that,” her voice is annoyed, her body not so much. 

“You were not fast enough. It’s not my fault.”

“I demand a rematch for another day. I have to shower and drop my things at work,” Clarke says while trying to steady her breathing.

Lexa is starting to wonder if she’s upset.

“Clarke,” it’s a whisper in between breaths.

“Don’t worry, Lexa, I had fun. I have one question though,” Clarke says softly.

“Sure.”

“Why don’t you go for 3-pointers more often? What you just did was impressive.”

“Gina is better at it. I tend to lose strength in my arms after a few shots,” she explains, her eyes on the floor now.

“Ok, I didn’t know that. Either way, I think you’re amazing. Yesterday’s game was pretty good.”

“Thanks. We’re trying,” Lexa smiles.

“I know, Lexa.”   

Clarke moves to stand in front of Lexa and brushes her hand over her arm, locking her eyes on the player. It’s mildly intimate and Lexa gulps. 

“I still think you’re a cheater at one-on-one though,” she adds, causing Lexa to laugh.

“I’m curious to see how you turn it against me in the rematch,” she says, a smirk taking over her previous sad look.

“Oh, I have tricks, and I plan on using them. Tomorrow?”

“I can’t. I have an interview after practice. What about Wednesday?”

“No good. There’s an auction at my work, I’ll be there all day.”

“I see. We’ll leave it to fate then. We meet when we meet,” Lexa suggests.

Clarke ponders it for a moment and then shrugs before holding out her hand. Lexa grabs it and shakes it softly.

With an easy smile from Clarke and a nod from Lexa they part, in different directions. Clarke feels like she’s going to pass out and isn’t entirely sure if it’s only because of the game she just played. There’s a scent of apple and violets clinging to her shirt that most undoubtedly isn’t hers. It’s intoxicating and she breathes it in when she’s at a safe distance. The weight of her bag on her shoulder brings her back to the real world but also gives her a perfect idea of how to improve her work. So she grins and walks to her car with a certain brunette in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it, I'm having so much fun writing this. 
> 
> Don't chew my head off, these two are oblivious idiots. Lucky for them, their friends are the voice of reason, so no worries ;)
> 
> Thank you for the comments, I love all of you.
> 
> I'm @krendallya-kom-saltkru on tumblr


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa come to a conclusion about their meeting, with Raven and Anya's help.
> 
> Also Lexa is interviewed by Bellamy and something comes out of it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderful beta, weskay, helping me make this fic the best it can be

 

Lexa wants her couch to swallow her whole. There’s laughter echoing everywhere in her apartment and she really needs it to stop. The pillow over her head is not muffling the sound as much as she hoped.

“Oh man, I saw you do some stupid things, but this, I think, tops everything,” a bodiless voice momentarily replaces the laughter.

Lexa grunts into her pillow, burrowing further down the couch.

“I need to know I understood you correctly. Can you, please, tell me again what happened?” the voice requests sweetly.

“I will not repeat myself, Anya. I already told you twice,” Lexa’s voice is muffled but she knows her cousin can hear her.

“I’ll believe you the third time I hear it.”

“Leave me alone, Anya.”

“Just once more. I’ll leave you alone after that,” the voice is filled with amusement and Lexa just grunts louder.

“Fine,” she removes the pillow from her face and turns to face the propped up tablet on the table beside her. “I spent some time with a girl, we played some basketball, I think it went great and then I left without even asking for her number. I’m very much aware of what an idiot I am.”

“Oh, poor Lexa. Forgets how to function around a pretty girl. I’m assuming she’s pretty,” Anya’s face is far from the screen as her fit of laughter made her push her chair backwards. Lexa can barely see her, but she knows the blonde’s eyes are shining with glee.

“She’s gorgeous. It’s ridiculous, really. Those really bright blue eyes, her sun kissed blonde hair, her flawless skin, her smell. The second time I grabbed her it was mostly to smell her. Tropical sweat, pomegranate shampoo and off-brand detergent I think. I hate off-brand detergent,” Lexa sounds lost in a dream, the image of Clarke seared into her brain.

“I’m not even going to ask what the hell tropical sweat means. Regardless take it down a notch, Lex. This girl sounds straight,” Anya says, moving closer to the screen.

“I know, but I can’t help it. Why can’t I just focus on basketball?” Lexa whines and slams the pillow back on her face.

“Who knows really? Maybe you were in a relationship for so long that you can’t see yourself without someone.” 

“That’s not it. Besides, I don’t have a way to contact her and I can’t spend all the time at the park just to bump into her, so soon I’ll get over it. It’s fine.” 

“Keep lying to yourself, Lexa. Just please make sure you don’t ruin your career for some girl,” Anya sounds worried.

“Please, Anya,” Lexa says, facing the tablet again, a sad look in her eyes. “I don’t need my former coach right now, I need a friend.”

“I’m sorry. You are right.” 

There’s a moment of silence before Lexa notices that Anya is not moving. With another grunt, she turns off the video call and rolls her eyes at the grey wifi signal. Seeing as her phone is charging in the kitchen she decides to lay down on the couch again and just sleep there. Sometimes she wonders why she even bothered bringing a bed with her. 

 

\--/--

 

Raven lives in a nice little house, outside of the city, that looks more like a cottage than anything else. Clarke absolutely loves to sit with her friend on the back porch, legs perched up above the treated wood railing, watching the softly swaying trees ahead. This time, they are both sitting there, beer in hand, reminiscing about Clarke’s encounter with Lexa. 

“So you didn’t get her number?” Raven asks, slightly confused.

“No,” Clarke groans. 

“Did you get her address then?”

“Nope.”

“Her email?”

“No.”

“Her Facebook? Her Twitter? Her Tumblr.”

“None of those. I did research but there’s no personal info on any of them. The only professional profile I found was from her time in the Grounders. So helpful,” Clarke rolls her eyes with such force they almost pop out. 

“Her practice schedule then?” the mechanic is now completely confused.

“I have no way to contact her, Raven. It was fucking idiotic really and honestly, I never felt this bad in my life,” Clarke groans harder.

“Wow. This girl really rattled your bones, hum?”

“I think she rattled my soul,” she whispers.   

“Dramatic much?” Raven frowns briefly. 

“Listen, I’m going through an intense moment and I’m not sure I know how to deal with it.”

“I get it. Let’s be clear though, is Lexa kinda like Alice to you?”

Clarke stares at her friend. She did not expect her to go there and, honestly, she hadn't thought about it. Could Lexa be like Alice? 

Alice was Clarke’s first, and only, gay relationship. It didn’t last very long but it had changed Clarke. The redhead had shown Clarke what it felt like to be worshipped and showered with affection. Clarke really, really liked that girl. In the end, though, something pushed them apart: when Clarke woke up one day to an email from her saying how she had received the opportunity of a lifetime and moved to Europe out of the blue.

Clarke knows that Raven means the part where she liked Alice and had introduced her as her girlfriend at some point. 

“Raven, I barely know Lexa. Sure, we had a connection at the arena, and spent a lovely couple hours in the park, but it doesn’t mean I’m ready to start a relationship with her. Besides, I don’t even know if she…” Clarke pauses, “swings that way.”

“She had an intense way of looking at you at the arena, that I saw. I don’t know about the park but from what you told me, maybe she does,” Raven says seriously.  

“Whatever. Who knows when I’ll see her again without hundreds of people staring at us and wondering what we’re talking about,” Clarke says bitterly.

“Griff, my friend, trust that I am here to assist.”

Clarke just looks at her, wondering what she’s talking about. Raven makes a spectacle of taking her phone off her pocket and searching for a number while throwing her a smoldering look.

“What are you doing?” Clarke asks, raised eyebrow and confused expression as her friend seems to be calling someone.

“Harper, hey, Raven here. Listen, remember that car part we talked about for you MG?” Raven pauses as the other girl answers. Clarke is already crouching beside her. “Good. Tell you what, I can get that part for you for 70% off if you give me your training schedule for this week. For a friend.”

Clarke gasps and quickly covers her mouth while Raven nods to whatever Harper is saying.

“Can you text me that? Great, thank you very much. Talk to you soon. Bye.”

Raven ends the call and raises her arms in a victory stance.

“Boom, Clarke. Boom,” she practically shouts at a shocked Clarke.

“Why did you do that? She’s going to think I’m stalking her.”

“Nonsense. Just show up and say it was a coincidence.”

“You’re insane.”

“Yes, but you love me,” Raven smirks at her.

“I do. But this is a bad idea,” Clarke whispers, mortified. 

Raven shakes her head and grabs Clarke’s shoulders.

“It’s a genius idea, cause it’s the only kind of ideas I have.”

Clarke only shakes her head; who is she to fight against logic.

 

\--/--

 

Lexa sometimes wonders if their coach really wants them to reach their next game. The water hitting her shoulders is soothing but it never feels enough. Or maybe she’s the one who is just abnormally tired. Either way she needs to hurry because a journalist is waiting for her.

Octavia gave her a few pointers about him, seeing as he is her older brother, but she wasn’t entirely sure she was being serious.

“Just don’t look him in the eye, he can pounce if you stare at him. Also, don’t use big words, he’s not very smart. Don’t make jokes, he’ll think you’re being serious and write it down,” she said, but there was always a smile in her eyes.

She gets out of the shower and puts on the team’s dark blue sweatpants and a t-shirt. Checking her phone, she realizes she has no time for braids, choosing instead to simply hold her long hair in a bun. She takes a few deep breaths before exiting the locker room and heading to the press room of the arena.

He’s sitting at one of the smaller desks set up in the room for one-on-one interviews. When she enters and drops her bag on one of the chairs near the door he looks up from his notebook. Black, unkempt curly hair bounces as he leaps to his feet and throws his chair back. Lexa smiles at his extended hand and grips it in a strong handshake.

“Bellamy Blake, pleasure to meet you, Miss Woods,” he says in an unexpected rough voice.

“Please, it’s Lexa. I play with your sister,” she corrects him with a pleasant smile.

“Right. Though I intend on being professional when I start recording,” he tells her, pointing at his phone.

Lexa notices it has a recording app open and she nods in understanding. The notebook beside the phone is filled with notes and questions and she swallows the dry lump that forms on her throat. She isn’t used to this, no one ever wanted to ask her many questions before.

“Before we start, is there anything off-limits?” he continues, looking at her in a way that is begging for a negative answer.

“I don’t think so.”

“Good. Please have a seat,” he claps his hands together before placing a chair next to the desk.

She sits and adjusts her chair while he sits in front of her. The recording app comes to life with a  ding  and he gives her a goofy smile.

“Ready?”

“Absolutely, go ahead,” she says, with a soft smile and a deep breath. 

“Alright, so you’ve won more games consecutively than the team has altogether in the last 4 years. The fans are overjoyed. Any first reactions? How are you feeling in this new environment, in completely new circumstances?” he asks, assuming his aforementioned professional stance.

“Well, I was pleasantly surprised by the way fans welcomed me into the team. I realize my reputation precedes me and I’m trying my best to not let them down,” she pauses a bit, “and hopefully take this team back to the top, be it this year or the next. I experienced the environment of this arena last weekend and everyone was supportive, we have loud fans, I noticed,” her smile widens as she recalls one of the loudest, Clarke, and her companion, the brunette that Harper seemed to know. 

“Is that good or bad, particularly in terms of player focus?”

“As long as no one is shouting profanities directed at us, it doesn’t really make a difference. We are focused on the game and what plays to make and how to react to the opponent, so, most of the times we ignore it. But it is nice when they are cheering every time we make a good point or when they clap during free-throws. We use that to get pumped.”

He writes down a few things and scratches others and Lexa shakes her head as Clarke’s screams of ‘just throw the goddamn ball’ echo in the back of her head.

“So, I did some research on you and someone from your old team mentioned that your nickname is ‘Commander’, is that correct? How do you feel about it?”

She chuckles at his question. 

“Wow, I have a pretty good idea who told you that. Yes, I was called that in the locker room and I took it as a term of endearment. It has not reached this locker room, yet.”

He nods and smiles at her answer and scribbles some more. She wonders what her current teammates would feel about it. She is trying to keep a low profile here and the nickname sounds harsh to her now.

Bellamy clears his throat and suddenly his face is serious. Lexa frowns.

“There’s been a great deal of speculation about your rather sudden transfer to The Arkers. Anything you can tell us about it, are there any specific factors that influenced your decision to leave?”

Here it is, the  question. She knew it was coming eventually, but this soon is unexpected. She’s prepared, though. 

“Every player needs to challenge themselves and when you reach a certain point and feel there’s no way further up, you make a decision and try to find somewhere new to maybe reach that point again. Almost like you get knocked down and then get up again. My grandfather taught me that.” 

It’s not the answer he’s looking for, not even close, but it’s the one he’s getting.

There’s a brief moment when Bellamy loses her. She is back at her grandfather’s old house, the crinkly old man smelling like stale cigars and cheap whiskey, looking her in the eye and the words ‘ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim’ coming out in stutters and hiccups.   

“Does it feel like a fresh start? How did your former teammates and friends react? How about your family?” he continues, clearly not fazed by her answer, or lack thereof.

“It is a fresh start. One that I needed and that my teammates and friends accepted without much questioning. Also, if you did your research, you are aware that I don’t have a family anymore.”

“Yes, I apologize. I said family as in your ex-girlfriend and your cousin and former coach, Anya.”

She cringes a bit at his reference and shakes her head.

“About that, I would appreciate if you didn’t mention Anya. She’s in a good place right now and doesn’t need any publicity.”

“Of course. Again, sorry,” he says and writes down in bold letters: ‘no Anya’.

“Going back a little bit, seeing as you are the new team captain, is there any game philosophy that you would still like to present to your teammates? Any strategies or new ideas that you plan on instilling to improve your efficiency as a team?”

Lexa sighs at his change of theme. This she can handle.

“I believe this team is very capable and filled with amazing athletes than can help take the team back to the top. My philosophy has always been to work hard and outsmart the opponent,” she grins at him and he nods, “and this is the ideal team to perfect that philosophy. The girls are incredibly smart and we already had a good start with a solid win and we intend on keeping that up,” she explains with purpose and he nods enthusiastically.  

“Now on a more personal note, any advice you would give young athletes who are on the beginning of their journey, be it professional or not-yet professional?”  

She takes a moment to answer and he taps his pen impatiently. Maybe this interview is taking longer than it should.

“I would tell them to dream and train hard to achieve that dream, never give up and most importantly, to love the game. If you don’t truly love this game, it makes things harder,” she tells him, with a hint of sadness in her eyes. 

“Is there anyone in particular who influenced you, injected you with passion for basketball? Any mentors you’ve had that greatly influenced your life choices?”

She grins again, fond memories flooding her.

“Yes. The first person that placed a ball in my hands was a neighbor who was a few years older than me. He taught me how to throw and took me to some games. Thanks to him I met Laura Kinley, one of the best players ever, whom I had the pleasure of playing against early in my career. She gave me great advice and was one of the people who helped with my decision to change. I also had a coach that helped shape me into the player I am today.”

“To wrap things up, can you share something about your future plans – both related to The Arkers this season and seasons to come?”

“Well, our main goal this season is to finish in the Top 10, and if that happens, go as far as possible in the play-offs. A couple of seasons ahead I think we can go all the way, reach the finals and after that get the cup back,” she answers with a determined look on her face, much like the look she would give her former teammates and that got her the ‘Commander’ nickname. Maybe it’s not as harsh as she thinks. 

“Sounds like a solid plan,” he says and holds out his hand again. “Thank you for this interview, Lexa. I’m not 100% sure but I think this may be in Thursday’s newspaper.”

“Sounds good. Go easy on me though,” she begs, biting her lower lip. 

He laughs and hits the stop button on his phone’s app. After making sure everything is saved, he gathers his things and they both leave the press room. Lexa is now fully convinced Octavia was just messing with her. Bellamy is not that bad.

 

\--/--

 

Clarke wakes up that Thursday convinced that it is going to be a normal day. It’s a little later than usual because the auction from the day before took a lot longer than anticipated but she feels rested. Her phone has three unread messages and one phone call. It’s all Raven.

Raven

Morning, I have something here you will like. ;)

Raven

Come to the garage as soon as you can, you’ll wanna see this.

Raven

Clarke, stop ignoring me and get your butt here. YOU WILL WANNA SEE THIS!

Clarke ponders calling her friend while having a quick breakfast. What could she possibly have that is  this important? She doesn’t need to wonder much longer as her phone starts ringing and Raven’s face occupies the whole screen.

“I was just about to call you,” she comments.

“Man, I thought I would have to call the cops on you,” Raven jokes. 

“I slept in today. Yesterday’s auction was long,” she says, elongating the last word.

“You are up now, so please come here. I know you are going to truly enjoy what I have on my desk right now,” Clarke can hear the mechanic’s smile over the line.

“Can’t you just tell me what it is?”

“I could, but I also wanna see your face when you read it.”

Clarke is rolling her eyes when her phone starts beeping.

“Raven, I’m gonna need to get back to you. My mother is calling me.”

“Ok,” is the mechanic’s answer. When Abby calls, Clarke is usually gone the whole day.

 

\--/--

 

Lexa’s day could have started better. Sleeping on the couch is not as comfortable as it used to be and her coffee machine breaks down before any decent amount of the drink is ready. Groaning and mumbling to herself she gets dressed and goes to a bakery on the other side of the street. There she finds the newspaper Bellamy works for and wonders if the interview came out. Sure enough, there’s a small box in the front page that reads: ‘Lexa Woods, The Arkers’ saving grace?’ 

She settles at a table with her coffee and an apple strudel and opens the newspaper at the article. The picture he chose is nice, taken at the game and she’s wearing the team jersey and smiling, her hand up to the crowd in thanks. The title is the same as the one on the box and she cringes at it. She’s not sure if that’s what the interview wanted to convey but here we are. Already regretting the whole thing, she starts reading the article and by the second paragraph her heart drops to her feet. 

“No. Why?” she whispers and the old lady at the table beside her eyes her like she’s crazy, talking to herself.

She vaguely remembers Bellamy mentioning her ex-girlfriend during their conversation but she didn’t expect to read the words ‘ex-girlfriend, model Costia Greene’ in the newspaper. The beginning of a headache and the idea that everyone in the bakery is judging her makes her leave with the pastry half eaten and the coffee discarded.

Back at her apartment, Anya takes way too long to answer the video call. 

“Hey, Lexa. You got your wifi back up?” she asks with a soft smile.

“Yeah. Someone in the building stopped paying and they turned off the wrong one,” Lexa explains, rolling her eyes.

“I see. Why are you calling me?” as she makes the question there’s a ruffling of paper and her face is replaced by the newspaper.

“Did you see that? He basically outed me on a national newspaper.”

“Lexa, you dated a model who is now getting her big break and your move was talked about. It wouldn’t stay hidden for long,” Anya reasons, putting down the newspaper and assuming her serious ‘listen to me’ look.

“I know. I just don’t understand why he had to mention it,” Lexa whines, covering her face in her hands.

“Did you read the whole thing?”

“No. I freaked out when I read that particular part. Why?”

“Well he mentioned that he talked to her and that she was incredibly proud of you and wished all the best for your future,” Anya tells her softly, squinting as Lexa retreats further back into her couch.

“He could have told me that instead of writing it down,” Lexa says, the threat of tears cracking her voice.

“Maybe he talked to her afterwards? I’ll stop making excuses for him, if you tell me why you’re so upset about it.”

Lexa pauses for a bit, lowering her hands to cover her mouth.

“What if she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore?” it’s muffled but Anya gets it.

“This is about the girl from the park? I should have known.” Anya shakes her head and sits back with her arms crossed. 

“Why do I do this to myself, Anya? I need to focus on basketball and not lose my calm over a girl, right?” Lexa pleads, eyes scanning the monitor for Anya’s support.

Times like these she really wishes her cousin was sitting beside her instead of an ocean away. 

“Yes, absolutely. Go for a run, take a nice shower, eat some lunch and kill it at practice later. Keep yourself busy and this girl will be the furthest from your mind. It worked on Costia, it will work on her.”

“I’m going to do that. This is me starting anew, not falling back into old habits,” Lexa asserts herself and Anya smiles.

“That’s my girl. Listen, if you need me in person, I’ll get on the first plane, ok?” Anya looks considerably worried. 

“That will not be necessary. I need to do this on my own,” Lexa says, takes a deep breath and manages a reassuring smile. 

“Take care of yourself, Lexa.”

With that little piece of advice Anya turns off the call and Lexa goes to change into some running clothes. She is not going to think about Clarke anymore today.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading and for all the nice comments. I love all of you.
> 
> I'm krendallya-kom-saltkru on tumblr


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby makes her first appearance, Raven is the perfect cupid, Lexa gets "cornered" twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, @weskay is the best beta a girl could ask for. Shaping this bad boy into awesomeness. Thanks buddy.
> 
> Sorry this one took a little longer. Enjoy, fam.

Clarke loves her mother. Abby is a skilled orthopedic surgeon who does charity work on her  days off, which aren’t that many. In an effort to spend time with her daughter, she usually asks Clarke to join her and help out with errands and artistic endeavors for the charity.

Today she’s helping her mother buy groceries to distribute through the 5 families the charity works with.

“So, sweetie, how is work?” Abby asks, casually pushing the shopping cart through the aisles.

“Going well. We sold an incredible lot yesterday and my project for the November exhibit is taking shape,” Clarke says, picking up some goods and placing them in the cart.

“I’m glad. Can’t wait to see that.” her mother says proudly.

“It’s going to be huge. Like full wall huge,” she explains, holding out her arms for emphasis.

“Let me know if I’m keeping you from working on it,” Abby wonders, smiling.

“No worries. My inspiration is still flowing,” Clarke grins, the image of Lexa in the park as vivid as ever.

“Someone new in your life, Clarke?” her mother wonders, frowning.

“What? Not really. Just a person I met recently,” the girl dodges the question with an eye roll.

“I see. And what else is new?”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you. Raven got two season tickets and we went to an Arkers’ game this past weekend,” Clarke announces, stopping her mother’s cart.

“Really? Aren’t those incredibly expensive?”

“Mom, she got them as payment for a job,” another eye roll.

“Oh, wow. But Raven is very good at her job so it makes sense. How is she, by the way?” Abby inquires, tilting her head. 

“She says there’s something wrong with her brace and may need a new one soon.” Clarke explains with a worried tone. 

“I figured. I’ll have to take a good look at her leg, see what’s going on,” Abby muses with a smirk. 

Clarke side-eyes her. Something about her choice of words makes some alarms go off. Raven keeps telling her what a “hot mother” she has and now this? Something feels strange but Abby just keeps pushing the cart and seems deep in thought.

“There’s been new developments in that aspect, I’ll see if I can introduce her to one of the newest trials in 3D technology,” Abby says at last, a proud smile on her face.

“Thanks, mom. I really want to help her be comfortable. She deserves the best,” Clarke adds, smiling softly, her alarms shutting down. Her mother is just a concerned doctor, right?

“I know, sweetie. I’ll do my best.” Abby reassures Clarke with a hand on her shoulder. 

Mother and daughter continue their shopping, trading small talk and lame jokes, all strange thoughts forgotten. After paying, they both head out to the charity and get busy separating the groceries for each of the families. It’s past 5:30 when Clarke hugs her mom goodbye and goes back home.

 

\--/--

 

It’s just one of those days. Nothing goes right. Lexa kinda wants to die.

\--/--

The running went well, but the ‘not thinking of Clarke’ part, not so much. It’s nagging at her, this fear that maybe the blonde will not want to be near her. Someone once told her that her sexual orientation was a disease that nothing could possibly cure. What if Clarke felt the same way? She didn’t seem to be bothered by her affections during the game, but obviously she didn’t see it as anything other than part of the street rules. Cheating, she called it. But then she complimented her 3-pointers and encouraged her to try more often, and she touched her arm.  What kind of teenager way of thinking is this?  She scolded herself and started running back home.

The shower was refreshing but then she started wondering what shampoo and body wash Clarke used and it all went downhill from there. She tried taking a nap on the couch to stop her wandering mind but forgot to set an alarm . Who naps for more than a couple of hours, tops? It’s fine,  she thought at the time. Apparently she did and once she remembered what year it was, she was late for practice. She grabbed her bag and keys and got in her car. That did not want to start. Cursing loudly and profusely she tried, once, twice, three times before it finally came to life and allowed her to get to the arena.

\--/--

The locker room is empty but she can tell the girls are already there. She’s in trouble already, but she changes as fast as she can, dark blue long shorts and a baby blue singlet. Her hair caught in a tight bun and a water bottle in hand, and she runs off to the court. Yet, as she approaches the entrance, she hesitates. How will her teammates react to her now?  Suck it up, Woods. Just go to practice. Finally, she enters the court and cowers when all eyes turn to her. 

“You are late, Woods,” coach Becca announces with a scowl. 

“I know, I apologize. My car was acting like a piece of crap,” she explains, fiddling with her shorts’ string.

She is extremely self-conscious as the girls look at her. Why did she agree to that interview?

“I know a good garage here, if you need one,” Harper whispers her way.

“Thanks,” she mouths back at her.

“Well, Woods, crappy cars and newspaper interviews won’t excuse you from punishment. Give me 15 laps and 20 jumping-jacks,” the coach orders, sternly.

“Yes, ma’am,” Lexa sighs in relief. Maybe she’s overthinking things and no one cares about what he wrote.

“And Woods?” Becca calls out.

“Yes, coach?”

“Next interview is with a ring on your finger and a cup on your lap, got it?” the older woman appears to be smiling.

“Of course, coach,” Lexa gives her a salute and the right corner of her lips rises.

She starts running around the court and none of the girls are looking at her sideways.

 

\--/--

 

Clarke is almost home when her phone buzzes with a text.

Raven

Are you free yet? Need a favor.

Instead of answering, she decides to call her back, and the mechanic answers in two rings.

“Hey, Raven. I’m going back home, what do you need?” she asks, slowing down just in case she needs to make a u-turn.

“How did it go with your mom?” Raven’s voice fills the car.

“Pretty great. We went grocery shopping for her charity. I told her about your brace and she said she’ll pull some strings for you.”

“Awesome. So you’re free?” Raven sounds thrilled.

“Yes. Lay it on me,” Clarke says, smiling as she parks the car at the first available space.

“Ok, look, this afternoon three trucks came in and I had to recruit Jasper and Murphy to help me out and we are swamped. The thing is, Atom has a part I ordered and he’s even busier than me so he can’t bring it over,” she pauses for a second and Clarke hears what sounds like paper being moved around. “I need you to go pick up the part and then take it to the address I’m gonna text you, for approval. Is that ok?”

“Yeah, I guess. How important is it?” Clarke wonders, frowning. 

“Very important. Super, super important. Also important, that you be at the approval location before 7.”

“That is very specific, Raven,” her frown deepens.

“It is. The person I want to approve the part is only there until that hour. Do I need to spell everything to you, Griff?” Raven sounds a bit exasperated.

“Fine. Do I have to pay Atom for the part?” Clarke asks, pulling the car back into the main road.

“No, it’s cool. If the client wants the part, then I’ll pay him.”

“Ok. I’m on my way then. Is he expecting me?”

“Yes. He’ll have the box ready for you to pick up. Like I said, he’s very busy.”

“All right. Text me later then,” Clarke says, shaking her head slightly.  Today is errand day, I guess.

“Thanks, you’re the best, Griffster,” Raven ends the call with what Clarke assumes is a smile.

The drive to Atom’s isn’t long and, as Raven told her, he has the box waiting for her at the front desk of his shop. The text with the address comes shortly after she places the box in the passenger seat. She blinks, reads the message, blinks a couple more times and re-reads the message a few more times too.  That little shit,  she thinks as she turns her car back on and sets off to the location.

 

\--/--

 

Lexa is exhausted. She’s sweating out of every pore and she barely feels her legs.  That’s what you get for being late, never again,  she thinks to herself as she sits against the sideline wall. Her teammates are lying on the floor and their coach is walking around while looking at her clipboard.

“Alright, ladies, break’s over. Gather round,” she announces and Lexa groans.

They all get up with different degrees of difficulty and form a circle around Becca.

“Next game is against the Bears. We all know they live up to their namesake and we are going to need a strategy to overcome them. Lexa, ideas?”

“There’s only one player that can give us trouble and mostly because her goal in life is to bench me. They are big, but if we fully explore our outer game, it’s in the bag. That and some quick turnovers. Gina with the 3-pointers,” the brunette nods confidently. “Octavia can totally outrun them and I’ll try my best to score rather than punch Karly in the face, we got this,” she deadpans.

“That sound like a solid plan,” Becca nods. “However, I’m obviously going to turn that into something more professional. Anyway, we leave Saturday at 5 and return monday before lunch time. Also, because Lexa thinks so highly of all of you yet neglected to mention me in her interview, you are going to give me 5 laps before hitting the showers,” she ends with a huge smirk and sticks out her hand.

All the girls groan but place their hands over hers and scream ‘Arkers’ before starting their final laps. Lexa can see them side-eyeing her now.

She gets cornered in the locker room. 

“Here’s how it’s gonna go, Lexa. We ran extra laps because of you so now, there’s only one way for you to make it up to us,” Octavia threatens.

“And what is that?” Lexa asks, looking between the girls, her breath getting caught in her throat.

“You are buying us beers, tonight,” Zoe chimes in.

Lexa has never felt such relief. Regaining her breath she nods enthusiastically at her teammates.

“Absolutely. You’ll need to tell me where though, because I know nothing in this town.”

“We can go to Monty’s. It’s a very relaxed environment,” Gina suggests.

“Sounds good to me,” Harper agrees.

“Monty’s it is. Tonight at 10,” Octavia announces, trying to sound threatening again.

“Monty’s at 10,” Lexa repeats, nodding softly.

The girls move away from Lexa but Octavia stays behind, stopping the taller player from moving. She frowns.

“I feel like I should tell you that, we all noticed how you were talking to the blonde on our first game, so no one was really that surprised when we read the interview,” Octavia tells her, in a low voice, but with a soft smile.

“Wow. I did not know I was that obvious.”

“Yeah. Don’t worry though, we still think you’re cool. Also, thank you for the way you talked about us. We really appreciate it.” Her smile is genuine and warm. 

“Well, it’s the truth. I do think we can go far together,” Lexa says, smiling as well.

Octavia raises her hand and Lexa hits it with vigor. Afterwards they both hit the showers and it’s not nearly as awkward as Lexa thought it would be.

 

\--/--

 

Clarke waits and waits. She actually checks her watch every five seconds because she’s not sure if she’s too early or too late. There’s a chance Raven got the day wrong or something. 

That is her feeling until finally someone shows up. A group of three women come out of the building, chatting amongst themselves, ignoring Clarke and her box as they head out to their cars. She shuffles against her car as she takes several deep breaths. The person she is waiting for appears after another small group and she practically runs to her. 

“Harper?” she calls out and the girl stops in her tracks.

“Yes?” she eyes her curiously.

“I’m a friend of Raven, the mechanic,” she explains.

“Right, you were at the game last weekend. What can I do for you?”

“Raven wanted me to show you this, for approval,” Clarke hands her the box after she drops her bag.

“Why are you clogging the exit, Harper?” that voice;  oh  that voice. 

Clarke looks over Harper’s shoulder, as the girl is far more interested in the contents of the box, and catches Lexa’s eyes.

“Clarke?” her question is so soft she only hears it because her lips move.

“Hey,” Clarke says with a grin.

“What are you doing here?” she is trying to push Harper from the door, but the girl seems stuck to the floor.

“I brought something for her to see,” she explains, nodding towards the frozen girl between them.

“Oh my lord, this is amazing. Look at these,” Harper announces, waving the box around and noticing Lexa.

“Those are mirrors,” Lexa says calmly.

“No, no. These are original 1980 MG rear view mirrors and they are totally going in my car,” Harper is beaming at them.

“Why don’t you have original rear view mirrors in your car?” Lexa asks, eyebrow raised. Clarke smiles.

“Accidents happen, Woods. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Sounds about right,” she whispers to Clarke, who just shrugs.

“Tell Raven I want this. I’ll drop the car on Friday, but she can take her time because we leave on Saturday and only get back on Monday,” Harper explains to Clarke, giving her the box back.

“All right, I’ll let her know.”

“Also, Lexa,” she turns back to her teammate, “Raven owns the garage I told you about, so you can take your car there. Tell her I sent you.”

“I most certainly will do that,” Lexa accepts, smiling at her while stealing glances at Clarke.

“Cool. Monty’s at ten, then,” she says to Lexa before turning back to Clarke, “and thank you.”

“No problem,” Clarke says as the other girl makes her way to a car where Monroe is waiting, rather impatiently.

Lexa moves to stand closer to Clarke, only to make way for anyone coming out the door, not because she wants to check if she smells any different today. There’s that tropical smell, mixed with something she can’t pinpoint.

“So, we meet again,” she says in a ridiculously low voice.

“We do,” Clarke sighs. “To be honest, this was an elaborate plan from my friend to get us to meet. I had no part in it, except doing what she asked me to do,” she explains, talking way too fast.

“Really? Why did she do that?” Lexa frowns and her heartbeat speeds up to slightly dangerous levels.

“I told her about our time in the park and she figured she should help fate, for some reason,” Clarke gives her a half-smile.

“Oh.”

Lexa’s heart races as she imagines Clarke retelling the events, a smile in her face,  that beautiful smile she has , and she kind of wishes she had been there to see it. Yet, something else is nagging at her.

“You didn’t have to do it, though. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” she says, shoving her hands in her sweatpants’ pockets.

The look Clarke flashes her is of complete and utter confusing.

“Uncomf…,” she frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“You know, the interview,” Lexa says, as if it’s the most obvious thing ever.

Clarke racks her brain for a few seconds before she remembers what she’s talking about.

“Oh, the interview you told me you were doing on Tuesday. It came out already?”

Lexa has no idea what to make of it. 

“You didn’t read it?” she asks, slightly confused.

“No. I stopped reading sports newspapers a while ago,” Clarke explains in a sad tone. 

“So, you don’t know what it says?”

“Is it bad? Did you kill a man?” Clarke wonders, a hand on her chest but eyes lighting up.

“What? No,” Lexa says, lifting one side of her lips.

“Did you bribe a referee?” Clarke gasps. “Did you punch another player during practice?”

“None of those, Clarke,” she’s grinning now.

“So what is it? Wait, maybe that was what Raven wanted me to see this morning,” Clarke says, mostly to herself and Lexa tilts her head. “But she insisted I was going to like it, so it can’t be bad.” 

Lexa swallows hard and licks her lips. Her heart is surely going to come out of her chest.

“Lexa, Monty’s at ten,” someone says after passing them. She doesn’t even register who it is.

“Yeah, Lexa. No bailing on us,” someone else adds.

“Of course not,” she throws out into the open, her eyes glued to Clarke.

“I’m sorry, is that some kind of team motto?” Clarke asks, smirking.

“Uhm, I have to treat the girls to some beers tonight. I was late for practice and the coach was hard on all of us, so I have to make it up to them,” Lexa explains softly.

“Lexa Woods, professional athlete, late for practice?” Clarke feigns disbelief. 

You should be the one paying for the beers, technically it’s your fault,  Lexa thinks and it causes her to cough a bit. Clarke smiles.

“It happens. My car didn’t want to start,”  and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.  It’s a little more aggressive than intended.

“I’m just messing with you, Lexa. Sorry,” Clarke doesn’t lose her smile but it stops reaching her eyes.

“No, I apologize. I’m not having a very good day,” Lexa sighs.

“Well, a beer at Monty’s will fix anything. He makes his own and it’s delicious. Raven and I go there all the time,” Clarke offers, taking a deep breath.

“Thank you, Clarke,” her voice and eyes soften and it’s enough for the artist to stop breathing.

There’s a long moment of silence as the two just look at each other. It’s intense, to say the least. Lexa swallows and Clarke remembers how to breathe.

“So have fun tonight. Don’t drink too much though,” Clarke says, barely over a whisper. “But if you lose track with how much fun you’re having, drink 3 glasses of water and take an aspirin before bed. It’s a Griffin family secret. Trust me, my mother is a doctor,” she adds in a playful tone. 

“I won’t. Thank you for the tip, I’ll try to remember that. It could prove difficult, with all the fun I’ll be having,” Lexa says, smirking. 

Clarke nods at her and holds the box tighter to her body. There are unsaid words between them, and neither seem to know how to break this new silence.

“Lexa, are you trying to find a way out of our arrangement?” Octavia’s voice cuts through the silence like a samurai sword.

“No, Clarke was here for Harper and she was just telling me how nice Monty’s is,” Lexa’s voice is scratchy and low.

“It is. You’re gonna love it. See you there at ten.”

“At ten, don’t worry,” Lexa is starting to sound annoyed. The next person to say “at ten” is probably going to get smacked. 

Clarke shifts her weight and sighs just as Octavia leaves. 

“I should go. Raven is going to close the garage soon and I have to get this back to her,” she informs with a shaky breath and a sad frown.

“Of course. I apologize for keeping you waiting,” the player mimics her sadness.

“It was nice seeing you again, Lexa.”

“You too.”

Clarke smiles and starts to leave. Lexa adjusts her bag on her shoulder and goes to her car, feeling ready to sink into her seat and hope the vehicle swallows her whole, or in small pieces, she doesn't care, she just wants this horrible day to end.

“Lexa,” she hears just as she puts her keys on the door.

Turning, she sees Clarke jogging towards her. The artist sticks out her arm when she comes near and Lexa sees a small piece of paper in her hand. She eyes it in confusion.

“It’s part of Raven’s plan. Text me,” Clarke explains, waving the card in front of Lexa.

“Of course,” Lexa says as she picks it up.

Clarke smiles again and turns to leave. Lexa takes a deep breath.

“Clarke?” she calls out and the artist stops and turns slightly. “Please read the interview.”

It’s pleading and vulnerable and the other girl nods. They end up leaving at almost the same time, once more in different directions.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for all the kind comments and the kudos, you guys rock.
> 
> I hope I can continue to deliver satisfactory chapters because I love this AU so much.
> 
> come see me cry over Clexa at @krendallya-kom-saltkru on tumblr


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke finds out something about Lexa and Monty's is buzzing on a week day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. My. God. What an asshole I am. I'm truly sorry for taking so damn long to update, you guys probably don't even remember this fic exists anymore. I could blame work and my role in Rikleimt but it's not just that. Anyway, for Clexa Week 2017, here's the newest chapter. Thanks to my beta for sticking with me.

When Clarke parks her car in front of the garage, she can tell things are busy as she can hear tools working even before she leaves the vehicle. It’s getting dark and colder, but inside all the lights are on, and the heat is almost unbearable. There’s music blasting from the speakers Raven installed on top of the entrance to her office, and when she steps inside, someone swears loudly.

“Which one of you got hurt?” Clarke hears Raven yell.

“I didn’t. These stupid bolts keep falling where I can barely reach them,” Jasper whines from his place on top of an engine. “Oh hey, Clarke,” he adds as she passes by him.

“Hey, Jasper,” she says with a smile.

Raven comes out of her office with one of the biggest grins she has ever seen and it makes her stop, wide eyed, in shock.

“You did it? How did it go? Come here, tell me everything,” the mechanic rambles, way too excited.

Before entering, Clarke hands her the box and notices Murphy appearing from under a truck.

“How bad is it that you need these two helping?” She asks after he shoots her finger-guns.

“It’s bad. I have to fix three trucks by Monday. It’s wild, we totally got this. New topic, you and this box, spill,” Raven is still rambling and her grin has to be painful by now.

“Harper was super excited about it. Said something about dropping her car here tomorrow, she’s going to be away for the weekend,” Clarke announces like it’s no big deal.

“Yeah, yeah. She called me for that, I want to know the other thing,” Raven is now sitting at her desk, left leg perched over the furniture. She’s dying to know the gossip and isn’t even trying that hard to hide it.

“Unbelievable,” Clarke mumbles before taking a deep breath  and trying to hide a smile. “We talked for a bit, I gave her my number and left, no big deal,” she tells, dropping herself heavily in the chair in front of Raven’s desk.

“You see, if you had come here when I told you, that conversation would have been much different,” Raven explains while searching for something amongst the piles of papers on her desk.

“How do you figure?” Clarke sounds bitter.

Raven squeals when she finds what she’s looking for, and Clarke frowns. Seconds later, a newspaper is hitting her in the face.

“Page 12, Griff. I’m gonna check on the boys.”

The mechanic leaves her friend alone in the office while she reads the paper. She’s standing next to Jasper when a scream  comes out of the office . The two share a knowing smile and Clarke appears at the door, clutching the paper.

“Everything ok, Griffin?” asks a surprised Murphy, who once again rolls out from under the truck.

“Reyes, get back here this instant!” Clarke shouts.

She makes a show of limping  towards her friend, which only makes her considerably more anxious.

“Really?” the blonde huffs.

“What? My leg hurts today. Is there a problem, Clarke?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“You could have told me this over a text or while we were on the phone,” Clarke whispers.

“Would you have believed me?” she waits for the artist’s head shake and continues, “You needed to see that for yourself. Part of me was hoping she would tell you herself, but I can’t see the future,” she places a reassuring hand on her friend’s shoulder and squeezes lightly.

“She had a girlfriend,” Clarke is still whispering, “A girlfriend, Raven. You were right, she was flirting,” she laughs  nervously .

“My good eyes and ears compensate the bad leg,” the mechanic says with a grin.

“Oh man, I didn’t get her number,” Clarke remembers and both girls groan at this.

“I gave you one simple task, Clarke. I thought you were smarter than that,” Raven says, exasperated.

“There is something I could do, though,” she tries, a single phrase replaying in her head.

“Do share,” Raven’s eyes are twinkling now.

Clarke doesn’t get to tell her about her newly developed plan, because her phone’s  rather obnoxious stock message tone echoes through the garage.

 

\--/--

 

What does Lexa’s crappy day need? A video call from Anya, of course. The older blonde has her face in her hands, head shaking wildly. It’s doing nothing to make Lexa feel better.

“It’s no big deal, Anya,” she says, sighing deeply.

“You were late for practice after I told you to get yourself together. Lexa, it’s a huge deal,” Anya sounds annoyed.

“No. It wasn’t my fault, my car didn’t start.”

“That’s your excuse? You know what, I don’t care.”

Lexa has never seen her cousin so disappointed. A hint of a massive headache starts threatening to ruin her plans, so she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

“Anya, I’m sorry. I’m trying my best here and you know how hard it is, but I’m going to get there. I can do this, please trust me,” she says, her voice shaking slightly but the message gets across.

“I trust you, Lexa, I was the one who encouraged you to do this. Just don’t let outside forces ruin everything you’ve been working on,” Anya is serious, but her eyes don’t look so stern anymore.

“I won’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to get ready for some team bonding,” Lexa announces with a small smile.

“Good luck with that. Take it easy on the alcohol, you have a game on Sunday,”  Anya warns, raising her eyebrow .

“I know my schedule, Anya. And we are not teenagers, we are professionals,” Lexa reasons, smirking.

“Sure. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Good night, Anya.”

The call ends and Lexa looks at her phone. Clarke’s card is right on top of it, whispering to her.  _ Just one text. So she has your number, it’s only fair.  _ It takes her all of five seconds to pick it up and write down a simple text.

Lexa

_ It’s Lexa. I don’t have a card, so here’s my number. _

Sending the text, however, takes a little more time. With another deep breath and a hammering in her chest the text goes through. The answer is unexpected.

Clarke

_ Hey :) Can I call you? _

Lexa frowns but sends a yes before really thinking it through. When the phone starts to ring, she hesitates.

“Hi,” she hears Clarke’s voice over the device.

“Hey, is something wrong?”

“No, no. It’s just that, uhm, I did what you asked and I wasn’t sure how to express myself over writing,” she sounds uneasy.

Lexa’s throat feels dry and words are struggling to come out.

“Listen, I had a crazy idea,” Clarke continues.

“What is it?” she’s breathing heavily and is sure Clarke can hear it.

“Can I drive you to Monty’s later?” 

The question is followed by an intense silence. Clarke is waiting for the answer and Lexa is too stunned to offer one.

“Lexa, are you still there?” Clarke tries. “Did the call end?” she hears her say, from somewhat of a distance, as if she removed the phone from her ear to look at the screen.

“Clarke, I’m here. Sorry,” Lexa says finally.

“Oh. Did you hear my question?”

“No, I saw a notification on my tablet and spaced out a little, I apologize. What was it?” she lies.

Lexa really wants to hear Clarke ask again, just to make sure it’s really happening.

“I was wondering if I could drive you to Monty’s. I know your car is acting up and I know the bar and the owner, so what do you say?” Clarke’s voice wavers slightly.

“Hum, that sounds,” Lexa starts but then realizes what she is about to say and bites her tongue. “I mean, thank you. I guess I can accept that. If it’s not too much trouble for you,” she adds, to sound less eager.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Clarke’s answer is fast. “I’ll pick you up at 9:30?”

“Sure. I live on Mount Weather Avenue…”

“Wait, really?” she interrupts and Lexa frowns.

“Yeah. Is that a problem?” Lexa narrows her eyes, even if Clarke can’t see it.

“No, no. I work two blocks away from that avenue,” there’s a smile in her voice and Lexa relaxes.

“Oh. That’s a nice coincidence, I guess.”

“This town is not that big. I’m sorry, you were saying?” Clarke laughs softly.

“Apartment 47, next to the flower shop and in front of the bakery.”

“Got it. See you then,” it sounds almost as a question, as if Clarke isn’t sure she really agreed to this.

“See you then.”

When the call ends, Lexa balls her fists and punches the air.

 

\--/--

 

If Raven’s grin was huge when she got there, she is sure hers is going to split her face in half.

“That was painful to watch, Griff,” the mechanic says in the most fake-annoyed tone ever.

“Fuck you, I have a date,” Clarke says while doing what is supposed to be a victory dance or something. She doesn’t care, she’s so happy.

“Do you, though? Cause I was listening and I did not hear you mention it’s a date,” Raven raises her eyebrow and Clarke freezes mid-dance.

“Oh no!” she squeals and covers her face. “Why do I keep doing this? Ugh.”

“You turn into a useless gay when it comes to this girl,” Raven is amused.

“I’m pathetic,” Clarke sighs.

“If anyone cares, I thought she was totally asking her out,” they hear from behind them, where Murphy is casually filling a plastic cup with some water from a nearby watercooler.

“Thank you for your input, John,” Ravens says. 

“Either way, I have made a commitment, so I’m going home to take a shower and get presentable. Even if I didn’t say it’s a date, I’m sure as hell going to show her it is,” Clarke announces,  regaining her confidence with Murphy’s words.

“Just keep it casual, Clarke. Don’t scare the girl.”

“We are going to Monty’s. I will not be wearing a cocktail dress, trust me,”  she rolls her eyes dramatically.

“Good, don’t embarrass yourself,” Raven adds with a smirk.

“Wow, Raven. How do I function without your sage advice?” Clarke wonders.

“Who knows, really?” Raven shrugs.

Clarke shakes her head and goes to hug her friend. In the middle of the garage, another loud curse and the sound of metal hitting metal distracts them.

“Damnit, Jasper,” Raven cries out, her arm around Clarke’s waist.

“Sorry. I just need a different tool, I got this!” he shouts, scrambling around his toolbox.

“That reminds me, is your leg really hurting?” Clarke asks, worried.

“Nah, I was just messing with you. I’m fine,” Raven grins and pulls Clarke back for a hug.

“You suck. Wish me luck,” she whispers in her ear.

“Good luck and take it easy. You don’t know how long she’s been single,” the mechanic whispers back.

“I know. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With a smile and a wave in the general direction of the boys, who are still hard at work, Clarke takes off, her heartbeat speeding up as she approaches her car and thinks about where her night is headed.

 

\--/--

 

Lexa wonders when this nightmare of a day will end. Her phone keeps buzzing with messages; from one of her teammates, she’s sure; asking where the hell she is. It’s frustrating, but there’s a reason and it’s stopping the car in front of her. The window on the passenger side goes down.

“I’m so, so, so sorry. I suck,” Clarke’s voice comes out of the car and her face is begging for forgiveness.

Lexa shakes her head and slowly gets up from the stairs she was sitting on.

“Don’t worry, I’ve already deflected the 500 death threats I’ve received,” she informs her ride with a small smile.

“Give them my number, I’ll take the heat,” Clarke offers, pouting cutely.

“Just make sure I get to the bar and we should be fine,” Lexa finally opens the car door and gets in.

Clarke is smiling at her and her breathing hitches. She is wearing a white low-cut top and what looks like skinny dark blue jeans. Her hair is loose and cascading down her back in all its blonde glory. There is a tropical scent in the car that she is sure is coming from Clarke and it’s delicious. While she buckles her seatbelt, she feels Clarke’s eyes on her, taking in her own look. A green and black plaid shirt with rolled up sleeves and black distressed jeans. Hair caught in a high bun, a single braid on her left side. A simple look for a simple hangout with teammates. Although, with the way Clarke is licking her lips as their eyes meet, Lexa starts to doubt if she’s going to be spending any time with the girls.  _ What is happening?  _ She wonders, looking away from her and fidgeting with the hem of her buttoned shirt.

“All right, it’s actually not far from here, so you can tell them we’re coming.”

When Clarke speaks, it’s low and raspy, which makes Lexa frown. As she gains courage to look back at her, Clarke is completely focused on the road, her hands gripping the steering wheel with a lot more force than necessary.  _ Holy shit, stay cool, Woods. Keep it together. _

“Thanks for the ride,” she says softly, to cut the deep silence that fell in the car once they got back on the road.

“Sure, no problem. I wanted to talk to you, in person, and Monty’s really cozy and I kinda wanted a beer too. But I don’t want to keep you from your teammates, so we can talk later,” Clarke says nervously.

“It’s about the interview?” Lexa tries, still frowning a bit.

“Yes. I have some questions, if that’s ok,” Clarke doesn’t look away from the road and bites her lower lip.

“Of course,” Lexa says, as softly as she can. “I wouldn’t have told you to read it if I didn’t want to answer any questions you have.”

Clarke nods and steals a glance back at her before making a left turn. Lexa has lost track of how long they’ve been riding and thinking back, she realizes she has no idea the direction they are heading. They continue in silence and Lexa wonders why she won’t ask the questions while they are still alone.

When Clarke finally parks the car, Lexa takes a deep breath and goes to unbuckle but her hand touches Clarke’s and there’s the electric shock again.

“Oh man, why does that keep happening?” Clarke whispers as she jerks her hand away.

“Do you think there’s too much electricity between us?” Lexa asks before she can stop herself.

“I bet,” Clarke laughs.

They walk to the bar relatively close and Lexa starts coming up with possible questions she may ask. None of them help calm her down. And neither does the fantastic way she smells and looks.

 

\--/--

 

Clarke is a nervous wreck when Lexa opens the bar door for her. The player looks amazing in her plaid shirt;  _ if you had any doubts, Griffin,  _ she thinks; and there’s that apple and violet smell that floods her brain when she brushes against her to walk through the door.

The place is practically empty, being a weekday and relatively early, and Monty spots them right away.

“Hey, Clarke,” he greets her happily.

“Hey, Monty. How are you?” Clarke asks, leaning against the counter in front of him, Lexa staying slightly behind.

“Good, good,” he says, before pointing behind her. “That is not Raven.”

“Excellent eye, Monty, it is not. This is Lexa Woods,” she turns back to Lexa, “Monty Green, bar owner extraordinaire.”

They all smile and Lexa and Monty shake hands.

“She’s too kind. I do ok,” he shrugs, wiping his hand on a rag.

“Stop being modest and go get us a couple of your beers,” Clarke orders.

He disappears somewhere and Clarke focuses back on Lexa, who is scanning the bar.

“Clarke are you sure we’re in the right place? I don’t see the team anywhere,” she frowns.

“Just wait a minute.”

Monty comes back with two unmarked bottles and places them on the counter.

“Two Dropships?,” he announces with a slight flair that makes Clarke smile.

“Thank you. Listen, is there a large group of women anywhere around?” she questions, grabbing the bottles.

“Oh yeah. In the back room. I think it’s a team or something,” he says scrunching his nose, but Clarke can tell he’s just messing around.

“We are going to join them,” she informs him, smiling.

“Of course. If you need anything let me know,” he winks and goes to clean the counter.

Clarke leads the way towards the back of the bar where a double door divides the main floor from another room. It is slightly ajar and the closer they get, the noisier it becomes. There’s laughter and loud conversations and Clarke hesitates, which causes Lexa to bump into her.

“Problem?” Lexa asks softly, eyebrow raised.

“You know what, I’ll just sit at a table and wait while you hang out with them. Here’s your beer,” Clarke offers.

Lexa picks up the beer but does not move. She understands Clarke’s reasoning, but at the same time she really doesn’t want to leave her. Curiosity is getting to her. 

Before she makes up her mind, they hear a man’s voice coming from the room. Lexa smirks and starts pushing Clarke towards the door with her body. She barely resists and at a certain point Lexa is sure she actually leans back against her, reminding her of their playful game and causes her to blush slightly. Once inside all eyes turn to them, and they can see at least four people that are not part of the team, including a big, muscled man grinning at them.

“Clarke?” he asks from his place on the couch,  Octavia happily sitting in his lap .

“Lincoln,” she beams at him.

Both Lexa and Octavia are looking between them.

“You know each other?” Octavia asks.

“Yeah, Lincoln is Raven’s physical therapist,” Clarke explains, suddenly feeling much more comfortable.

“How is she? Haven’t seen her in a while,” he comments, smiling brightly.

“She’s alright, I guess. She’s been so busy I don’t think she has time to delve too much into any pain she may have,” Clarke reports, sitting beside him as Octavia leaves his lap.

“Tell her she can come over at any time, I can help.”

“She knows, but I’ll tell her anyway,” Clarke smiles.

“So how did you get dragged into this?” he wonders, looking over the room and raising his eyebrow a bit.

“I dragged myself,” she says, before getting closer to him and lowering her voice to a whisper. “I may or may not be interested in getting to know someone here.”

They both look around and see Lexa talking to Octavia somewhat far from them, while the rest of the team talk amongst themselves.

“I’m going to assume it’s Lexa, otherwise it would be weird,” he whispers back.

“Of course. Do you think I have a shot?” she is blushing.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” he informs her, his bright grin making her laugh.

She lands a pathetic excuse for a punch in his arm and he feigns pain, which just sends them both into a laughing fit. Lexa and Octavia frown at them but there is something in the way they are looking at them that tugs inside Clarke’s chest. So she somewhat gets control over her laughter and sends a pleading look at the brunette, who nods in an almost unperceivable way. Clarke watches as she turns to the large group, says a few words, chuckles for a second, rolls her eyes and takes a sip of her beer. Then, when she finally makes her way back to her, Octavia clears her throat and grabs Lincoln’s hands.

“Linc, come hear Harper’s joke, it’s hilarious,” she says, tugging at him.

He winks at Clarke before getting up and allowing his girlfriend to pull him towards the group. Her heart rate is dangerously high when Lexa sits down right next to her, green eyes shining and that smirk she likes to throw at her.

\--/--

 

In between Octavia’s words, Lexa needs to remind herself of how to breathe.  _ In, out, in, out. It’s not that hard, Woods. In and out. Keep going. _

“How glad are you that I brought Lincoln and Zoe brought her girl?” Octavia asks with a grin.

“I’ll thank you when I’m 100% sure of where this is going,” Lexa says, her voice cracking under her labored breathing.

“Geez, calm down Lexa. I’m pretty sure she’s interested,” Octavia says, placing her hand on Lexa’s shoulder. 

“That is why I’m freaking out,” Lexa whispers before chugging almost half her beer.

Octavia just snickers and shakes her head.

“Just remember we are not supposed to have sex up to 48 hours before a game,” she comments, casually.

Lexa almost spits out the liquid still in her mouth but miraculously avoids doing so, much to Octavia’s enjoyment. Then they both hear Lincoln yelp and frown when they see that apparently Clarke hit him and he’s faking pain. Lexa gets lost in the sound of her laugh, so melodious and fresh. Blue eyes are twinkling in her direction and she gulps. As much fun as Octavia and the girls are, Lexa really wants to be beside Clarke, hearing her voice and answering all the questions she has. And apparently, if her eyes aren’t deceiving her, Clarke wants her there too. A telepathic message is conveyed just by locking green and blue:  _ Just give me a second to mingle with the rest of the girls and I’ll be right there.  _ She nods as slowly as possible and takes a deep breath. She can feel Clarke’s eyes on her as she approaches the girls. 

“Everyone enjoying their beers?” She asks, sheepishly.

“Yes, Commander, thank you,” Harper says, raising her bottle.

All the other girls imitate her while Lexa just stares at her teammate.

“Was that necessary? Is it going to be a thing?” Lexa narrows her eyes.

“Absolutely. We found it to be...accurate and now intend to use it,” Gina joins in the conversation.

“I see,” Lexa looks at the floor, knowing Clarke is still watching her. “Well, if you are going to be like this, I’m going to go sit by that lovely blonde and leave you all to think about the possible ramifications of how I’ll handle that nickname in the near future.” she continues, chuckling and shaking her head.

The girls all laugh, Octavia and Harper the loudest.

“I’m going to kill your brother,” Lexa whispers in Octavia’s ear.

“Don’t hate him. He may have gotten you a new friend,” the shorter brunnette says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“He won’t if you don’t get your man away from her,” Lexa adds, taking another sip of beer.

Octavia doesn’t need much more incentive, and moves to take Lincoln elsewhere. Lexa silently thanks her and takes another deep breath. Filled with a strange courage and alcohol running through her veins, she sits right next to Clarke and smirks. 

“Hey,” she says softly.   

“Hey,” Clarke whispers.

There are butterflies in her stomach and her heart is beating so fast. She feels like a teenager and she doesn’t care. She just wants to get to know Clarke.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What will they talk about next?  
> Let's cross our fingers it doesn't take another 6 months for an update. Thank you for all the comments and kudos, I'm sorry for letting you down. :(


End file.
